For whom the Dragon dies
by Luna Shadowsong
Summary: As the Dragonborn brings Alduin's death one step closer at a time, his path is changed when he meets the Dunmer, Arleth. In a journey that uncovers ancient secrets and long-buried mysteries, he soon comes to realize that slaying dragons is what brings the least trouble. Caught in a game of intrigue, revenge and danger, all must find their true self and choose their side.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1

"I'm telling you, I'm the darned Dragonborn!"

The men laughed at the drunken beggar. He was a form of entertainment on this forsaken night. The bards had all but written poems of the famed Dragonborn. Since the Greybeards had called, that name had been glued to every lip, surpassing even the wars between the Stormcloaks and Imperials.

The Moorside Inn had always been quiet. Except for the few travelers who stopped for the night, and the imperial guards stationed not far, its inhabitants were usually the folks of Morthal.

"Oh, the Gods are cruel!" Jonna the landlady yelled. "There's been another murder! Those damned assassins, staining my inn. It's already dirty as it is, but they come here with their blades and decorate the walls with blood!" She paced around, waiting for the guards, while the men gathered around the corpse.

"Aye. That's one of ours all right. Poor lad. Didn't get to wear the armor for long." The Imperial guards picked the body up and took him to be buried. "Here's a little something for you trouble, ma'am." the Imperial said leaving, filling Jonna's hand with a sack of gold.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

"Done, my lady. The boy is dead. My tracks are invisible."

"Yes, so I've heard. You have done well, Arleth. The Night Mother trusts you, though I can't understand the reason for that. But…I have sworn an oath and I will keep it." The old lady walked around the kneeling Arleth. A Dunmer, tall and slender, with features too beautiful for her kind. One would see her as a queen, rather than an assassin. But she possessed great skill, and the Night Mother needed just that. "The Mother spoke to me a few moments ago. She has a most important mission destined only for you."

"Her will is mine, my lady." Arleth kneeled still, gazing at the ground, not daring to disrespect her elder.

"There is one Nord camped up in the Velothi Mountains. You are, no doubt, familiar to them. Finding him should not prove difficult. He goes by the name of Eirik." the old woman said, strotting around.

"How will I recognize him, my lady? Many Nords bear such names, and many Nords travel the Velothi."

"He is camped along with an Argonian friend. Shra'kil, our sources say. Not many Nords take up Argonians as their companions, Arleth. Now go. This is of utmost importance."

Arleth nodded and sat up. She walked gracefully and silently, as befits a member of the Dark Brotherhood. Her golden blades hanged from her belt, adorned with dragon scales. Her light armor enabled her body to become a shadow amongst men. But, most importantly, her aptitudes and senses made her who she was.

But now a man needed to die, and that man was her target. She would not disappoint. So she gathered up her gear, dressed warm and made for the Velothi Mountains. The mountains her ancestors once passed. Such a thought made her smile. She had not smiled in a very long time. Her job prevented her from doing so, she knew. There was no happiness in death. Only duty. Her duty.

As soon as she reached Dunmeth Pass, she knew Eirik would be close. This was one of the safest roads from Skyrim to her native land, Morrowind, therefore anyone camping would have stopped somewhere around here. And she was right. Not far from the pass, under a hill she sat on, stood Eirik and the Argonian, along with their horses and beds.

"The night is my shepherd." she whispered, "I must lie and wait." Closing her eyes, she felt a dim light tickling them and a voice calling to her. The voice that called to her so many times, even when she was a little child, stripped away from her family. She had been a promising recruit for the Brotherhood ever since they found her bathed in the blood of her kin's murderers. She knew no other life. But her visions took her far away, to a realm she never knew of.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

"We're wasting time, Eirik. You know damned well they aren't going to pass these mountains, they're too cowardly!" Shra'kil hissed with such power that Arleth had no choice but to watch.

"No, we are not. I've no desire for bloodshed, Shra'kil. I'd rather sit here and waste my days, than kill innocents."

The Argonian grunted. "Pah! What kind of Nord are you? The people expect the Dragonborn to go around and kill dragons, not sit around a campfire and wait for some fanatics to lose his trace so he won't have to end their pitiful lives. Alduin's having a blast right now, raising his little winged army from the ground, and you sit and roast rabbit meat. Rabbit meat! Not even a decent meal. Sometimes, I think the Gods like to joke with us." He sighed and lied down. "I will go mad waiting."

"Don't fret, my friend. Another day and we'll slay dragons again." Eirik ate his meat in silence. He knew better than to provoke his friend to arguing. "Since you're so eager to hunt, you might as well go and get us some of your 'real meat'."

Arleth had stopped listening to their quarrel as soon as she heard that word. Dragonborn. _Dragonborn._ She could not believe. The Mother had sent her to kill the _Dragonborn_? For the first time in her life, she doubted her master's decision. Her blade craved for Eirik's blood, but her mind pulled her back. She was curious. She made her way carefully down the hill, approaching the camp.

"Ho, there!" Eirik jumped on his feet and grasped his sword. "Who are you?"

"I am called Arleth, Dovahkiin." She bowed her head and got closer. She studied him, her mind still puzzled. "I wish you no harm. I find myself in need of a night shelter, and thought I might share yours."

Eirik smiled and seated himself one more time. "It would be my pleasure, Arleth. I am Eirik. Please. Sit. My friend, Shra'kil, has gone to find us some food. He will return shortly."

The dark elf proceeded to rest on a little wooden log. Her feet hurt, she realized. She really did need shelter. "It is an honour to meet you, Dovahkiin." She stared at the man before her eyes. A true Nord, of towering height and broad shoulders. His golden hair was tied at his back, his blue eyes glimmed in the moonlight. His face was round, and a bit plump, Arleth thought.

"I see you call me Dovahkiin," he laughed, "and not Dragonborn. You have your studies, that I can see."

Before Arleth could respond, her eyes moved to a shadow behind the trees. A monster, she thought. But then she saw a tail. It was Shra'kil, the Argonian companion, no doubt. She wondered how he would react at her sight.

"Well, well. A Dunmer finally appears. I was wondering when you would. This pass used to be infested with your kind." He placed a large boar before Eirik, gave him a knife and instructed him to cook it. Then he crouched in front of Arleth, his reptilian tail cutting the air. "You're a pretty one, I'll give you that. Can you cook? Can you clean? What about-"

"Enough, Shra'kil. She is a guest," Eirik declared, while cutting the animal's flesh "and I will not let you treat her like some common wench."

"She is still a woman. She could at least f-"

"Enough, Shra'kil."

The Argonian responded with a scoff, and sat up. The night had them in her embrace, and his eyes grew heavy. He placed his head on a ragged pillow and stared at the stars. "What's your story, dark elf?"

"You will address me by my name, argonian."

"I don't know it."he said, turning his head towards her.

"Arleth." Her cold, red eyes pierced him. She began to be irritated by his behavior.

"Well, all right, Arleth. What's your story?"

"I have no story worthy of the Dovahkiin's ears. I am a humble Dunmer, seeking to survive. And it has proven easy so far."

"Oh? Don't tell me you can fight. Such a lovely face should not be covered in cuts and bruises." He turned his attention to the stars once more. "I bet the other Dunmer despise you. They're all repulsive and stiff. You, on the other hand, are different. Physically, I mean, of course. "

"Enough of your rambling, Shra'kil." Eirik laughed again, and began to roast the meat. When he was done, all three had dug their teeth deep in the juicy meal, and filled their bellies with it. It wasn't long before they found themselves drifting off to other lands dreams could offer them.


	4. Chapter 4

It was Shra'kil that felt the wrath of the bandits first. He woke up stricken with unbearable pain in his shoulder, caused by a poisonous arrow. He sprang to his feet and took out his sword. Eirik quickly followed, wielding his greatsword in the air, whilst Arleth vanished in the shadows of the fading night, only to appear from behind, delivering lethal backstabs. The bandits stood no chance. But they had managed to wound Shra'kil, who now leaned on a tree, trying to keep his balance.

"By the Gods, my friend," Eirik ran to him "will you make it?' He started inspecting the perforated reptilian shoulder.

"Bah, how should I know?" He groaned in pain and stumbled on his knees. "No, wait. I think I do know. I won't. I feel the posion," he coughed "swimming through my body."

"No! I will not leave you to die!" The Dragonborn tried to find a cure in vain. The injury already began to fester, hastened by the venom's effect.

The Argonian fell on his back, trying to gather his strength. "Go, my Dragonborn friend. You're the one with the funny future, not i. Go. And fulfill your purpose, or so help me, I will haunt you until you die. I'll be there when you eat, when you shit, when you bed, when you drink, laughing at you even in my spirit form. You'll be the laughing stock of the ghosts led by me. You don't want that." He tried to laugh with his last powers.

Eirik's eyes filled with tears. He looked at Arleth. She stood motionless, watching. He turned back to his companion. "I won't forget you, Shra'kil."

"Yes, yes. Me neither. Well, I hope so. Who knows what kind of jokester dear Death is." He smiled. "Take care, eh? For me. For dear old Shra'kil." He coughed again.

Eirik nodded and looked at him, lost. His oldest friend, dying. He closed the Argonian's eyes and went to Arleth. "We…should move." His eyes filled with tears, but he fought them. "Early dawn is upon us and we can't afford to-." He stopped, and viewed her. "Would you like to be my companion?"

Arleth smiled and nodded. It was not as she had pictured this mission. But she knew she'd find a way out.

"Good. I…I won't bury him. He…told me he hates graves, and would like to die outside. Might as well respect that…" He sighed and walked toward Dunmeth Pass, with Arleth following, dragging the two horses with her.

The mountain valley surrounding the pass was quickly engulfed into a phase of severe laugh and occasional grunts. Eirik wiped the tears that had managed to escape his sky-like eyes, and turned, observing in awe as his friend was roaring with laughter, sitting on the ground, looking back at him.

"All that's mighty in the heavens…"The Nord ran to the Argonian, and grabbed his arms. "You live!"

"Of course I live, Eirik. Or have you forgotten my race's resistance to diseases?" He tried to stop himself from snickering. "Our little dark friend here is smarter than I imagined. She saw through my act, but said nothing. She too wanted to see your face." He sat himself up.

"I…How could you, Shra'kil? You…you…" He squeezed his friend's arms.

"By the Hist, man, it still hurts." He chuckled. "Now let us be on our way." He noticed his two comrades raising their eyebrows at him. "What…?"

"For all that you are witty, Shra'kil, pray tell…How will you travel with an arrow stuck in your shoulder?" Arleth demanded, with a slightly ironic tone.

The reptilian began laughing again. "Oh, what would I do without you? Here. Help me."

The elf plucked the arrow from Shra'kil's shoulder, and bandaged the wound. She nodded, and climbed one of the horses. Eirik took the other. The Argonian stared at both of them.

"And what does this old reptile use as transport, eh? Perhaps Arleth would be so kind as to let me ride behind her? I swear by the Hist I will behave." His lips bent into a smile.

"So be it. But let us be off. We have dwelt here enough." She grabbed his arm, and pulled him on the horse. And so, finally, they were able to follow Dunmeth's Pass to Skyrim. But Arleth's mind was struggling to find a solution. So far, she had failed the Night Mother. She wanted the Dragonborn dead, yet he was alive still. And, above all that, her companion.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, Dragonborn…I suspect you have a destination in mind," Arleth said, "and I would be happy to hear it."

"Yes. I do. We're headed towards Alduin's Wall, in Sky Haven Temple."

Shra'kil's wound had weakened him, despite his immunity to posion. The arrow had passed deep through his shoulder, and he had lost a considerable amount of blood. His vigour was wrecked, but he was in good spirits. He had asked Arleth for permission to rest his own tired head on her back, and, given her answer, he had done so. "It's a damned long way. We'll reach Falkreath soon enough, in a day or so. If I don't fall off the horse along the way."

"And from Falkreath we'll head to Whiterun. That will give a us a straight road towards Rorickstead and the Temple." Eirik added.

Arleth rode silently for some time. She admired the scenery around her. Due to her rapid assignments, she could never do that during her quests. Finally, she spoke. "Sky Haven Temple must be in The Reach, then. Is it not plagued with Forsworn?"

"Of course it is." Eirik smiled. "If we can handle dragons, we can handle Forsworn as well"

"Not to disrupt you, but…How will I fight? My arm has seen better days," a pained Argonian said, "and I doubt I'll be able to slay a horde of disturbed savages who have a little too much free time at their disposal."

Eirik knew his friend was right. They hadn't lost him to the arrow, but they would most certainly lose him to enemies. He needed healing and he needed it fast. Neither of them said anything for some time. The wind brought about a stench of rot and blood and the ravens sang. They searched and found yet another village smashed by some raging dragon. They adverted their eyes from the harrowing sight and continued on their way. Eirik felt a gap widening in his chest. He understood that the beasts would not rest until the world crumbled into chaos under their clawed feet, and that he, the Dragonborn, had to stop them.

It was hours until Eirik spoke at last. "Your shoulder needs healing, Shra'kil. And I know just the person to help us."

"Oh? Not some old sorcerer who can't find his glasses, please. I grow tired of them." The Argonian responded, slowly clutching his arms around Arleth.

"No, none of that. I was reffering to Loonah'ai."

Shra'kil's eyes expanded in an instant. He gawked at Eirik before talking. "No. Absolutely not. I'd rather be dragged in chains through Tamriel wearing only a bag than go to that mad hermit again. Out of the question."

Arleth giggled. "It would be an interesting sight."

"Oh? To see me dragged in chains, or to see me naked, eh?" The Argonian laughed. But his face darkened again. "No. I will not step foot in her hut ever again."


	6. Chapter 6

"Ooh, witty Argonian, you come here again to see Loonah'ai!" The Khajiit made her away through the books, tomes and cats lying around. "Let Loonah see you, yes. You are tired, yes, yes. And hurt. Who dared to hurt the witty Argonian, hm?"

She talked to Shra'kil the way she talked to her cats. And that annoyed him. That, and her way of sneaking around. "Oh, leave me be, will you?" He stood helplessly as Loonah'ai hugged and inspected him.

Arleth looked at the strange female Khajiit that pestered Shra'kil. She wore the bright clothes her kind liked to wear. Her eyes were a light orange, her nose was small, and her body thin. She had her ears adorned with earrings in every size and shape, and, like all Khajiits, she wore Nightshade. She missed some patches of fur here and there, and of course she seemed to lean on the verge of madness, but besides that, Arleth saw nothing out of the ordinary about this cat-person.

"Some bandits. Nothing dangerous, Loonah, but I need Shra'kil in top shape." Eirik placed himself in a wooden chair. He looked around, at the little hut they were in. The rotten shelves were overflowing with charts, manuscripts, plants and cats. He leaned back and peeked at Loonah's sleeping chamber. Her bed was covered in old linen, and her desk was her alchemy lab.

"Yes, yes. Loonah'ai will make him as handsome as he was before." The Khajiit searched around her shelves and desks. "Please, please, sit. Forgive the mess, Loonah works hard these days. Loonah needs to learn new spells."

"Spells?" Arleth seemed baffled. She rested her back on the wall, close to an open window. The air inside was thick and reeked with the combined scents of poisons, potions and Gods know what ingredients. "A Khajiit with magical abilities?"

"Yes, yes. Loonah is better than most mages that you meet, pretty Dunmer. Yes." She stopped in front of the elf and examined her. Loonah'ai found her mesmerizing. She liked this Dunmer, and so she would do what she could to help her.

"Loonah's one of the rare Khajiits that have arcane erudition," Eirik began, "and I've known her for years. She posses the powers to heal Shra'kil, be sure of that."

The clumsy Loonah stretched the Argonian on a steel table and began working on his wound. Just as Eirik had said, his shoulder improved in no time. And in less than two days, he was capable to swing his weapons again. But that didn't change his bitterness towards the lovable Khajiit. He was no cat, yet she would still fondle and snuggle him.

"Thank you, dear Loonah'ai. We owe you." Eirik said, holding the mage's hands between his.

"Silly Dragonborn. You owe Loonah'ai nothing." She looked at Arleth. "Why do you not spend another night here, yes?"

Arleth caught Eirik's glimpse, and he caught hers. They nodded at each other, and Loonah understood. Nobody seemed to pay mind to Shra'kil, much to the Khajiit's delight.

The night cradled Tamriel in her arms, and, by this time, Eirik and Shra'kil were fast asleep. Loonah was petting one cat. Arleth was beating herself up with guilt. Her steps echoed in her room as she strolled from one end to the other. The Brotherhood must know by now that she had failed. Perhaps they had even been spying on her, and considered her a deserter. She feared the Night Mother's fury most of all. She could slip out and run the Sanctuary. But then? She would still be considered a traitor for doubting her commands. Or would she?

Her thoughts were dispersed by Loonah's voice. "The pretty Dunmer is troubled, yes?" She said, seating herself on the bed, watching Arleth. "Tell Loonah your dilemma. She will try to help, yes?"

Arleth sighed. No one could really know of her 'dilemma'. "I have trouble sleeping, Loonah'ai. That is all."

"Ah, no, no. There is more. Yes, old Loonah senses what others don't. There is terror inside of you. You wish to leave."

That last sentence made Arleth turn in awe. She could see that this Khajiit knew more that she had thought. She supposed there would be no purpose in hiding. "Yes. I wish to leave. But I would not want Eirik or Shra'kil to hear."

"Yes, yes. Loonah understands. Loonah will help you leave. Come." She sat up and walked to the door. She stepped outside and viewed Arleth follow her. "Your horse is saddled, yes. Go, now. Loonah will not usher one word to the pretty Dunmer's companions." She grinned and let her sharp teeth be seen.

Arleth hopped on the horse and bowed her head to Loonah. "Thank you, Loonah'ai. May your path be filled with light."

"Yes, yes. Yours too, pretty Dunmer." She made a short pause and watched the elf vanish into the distance. "Yours too." She added and entered her house.


	7. Chapter 7

"I believe you have some petty excuse to present yourself with?"

"No. But I have questions." Arleth kept her head bent down, staring at the stone floor.

The old lady snapped. "Questions?! Since when do _you _have questions? The Night Mother must not be questioned!" She went on when she saw Arleth stood silent. "You were sent to kill a man. You failed! Not only that, but you allied yourself with him."

"But I returned, have I not?" She dared to look the lady in the eye. The flickering candles darkened the draughty underground room, but she could still notice the elder's bright blue eyes. "The man you sent me to kill is the Dragonborn. Such a target demands answers. Why would you, or the Night Mother, want me to slay the Dragonborn? If I do, then who would stop the dragons?"

The woman sighed and shook her head. She had suspected Arleth would betray them one day. But she dared not mistrust the Mother. "We have our reasons for the targets we choose, Arleth. Once he is dead, you will understand, I promise."

"All right. I will go after him again, and this time he will fall to my blade. But do not forget that you _promised. _If I carry out this assassination and you fail to keep your word, I…" She stopped, trying to calm herself. But she was unable, so she quickly left the Sanctuary in search for the Dragonborn once more.


	8. Chapter 8

The roads to Whiterun were silent. Just the occasional bandit gangs and wolves, or the crazed giants that would decide to attack. Other than that, everything was quiet. Even the Bannered Mare Inn was surprisingly quiet. A few Nords were drinking and enjoying their time somewhere in a corner. The bard, Mikael, proudly sang his songs of the Dragonborn to some Breton visitors, whilst Hulda the proprietor shared stories with a fellow Nord.

Eirik sat with a pint of ale in his hands, reflecting at what had transpired. It had been five days since Arleth mysteriously left, and even more days since he had last took down a dragon. It was his duty, after all. But, somehow, he began to doubt his journey. Esbern and Delphine were probably already close to the Temple, waiting for him. He watched Shra'kil challenge and beat a Nord, and he laughed. He was lucky to have a friend as loyal as his dear Argonian, one who would never betray him. He knew that no matter what his future could hold, at least he would not face it alone.

"You look bleak, Eirik." Shra'kil said as he stood down in front of him. "Still thinking about sweet, darling Arleth?"

Eirik shook his head and scoffed. "No. To leave us was her choice, and I can't contest it. I just hope she is well, wherever she is."

"She seemed capable, don't worry. What we have to think of is how to get to Sky Haven sooner." He drank and watched his friend. "And how to cheer you up, as well. I think I saw a pretty Breton not far. I could-"

The Nord raised a hand. He was in no mood for Shra'kil's jokes. "I don't need a woman to be content. I just need peace and…"He sighed. "And a good night's sleep. Rest well, my friend."

"On a contrary, I believe you need more than one woman to-" Before he could finish, Eirik had already left for his room. "And there I was, about to suggest a Breton _and _ a Redguard. But no, Shra'kil, you're stuck with a Nord that has no appetite for violence or pretty women." He laughed at himself, and finished his pint. Another one, and he'd be off to slumber.


	9. Chapter 9

_'How long does it take to find the Dragonborn?'_ Arleth wondered. She had been searching high and low, but she had so far failed. She began to ask herself whether her skills were leaving her. If so, then she would become useless, both in the Brotherhood's eyes, and her own. And that thought frightened her. But what frightened her more was the fear that slithered inside of her often than before.

She had now settled down for the night, her body screaming for rest. She had not slept in over three days. The mere thought of losing Eirik's trace quickened her step. But she had to replenish her energy from time to time, and a good slumber combined with rabbit meat made the perfect solution. She surveyed her surroundings carefully. Then she placed her head on the chilly ground. She closed her eyes and listened. The forest near her was dancing to the cold wind, and each leaf in its own pace. Far away, she could hear a lone wolf howling its tune to the moon, and the distant stream whispering to the stars. She took off her boots and dug her feet in the dirt. She smiled, and closed her eyes again. Her heart was, at least for a moment, at peace. Lying on a side, she let her mind chase away all manner of worries and take her to places she could only dream of.

But this night, she did not dream of impossible things. Instead, her visions returned. She found herself in a misty, golden room. She looked up and realized it was lacking a ceiling. One could see clouds and rays of light shinning down.

"Arleth…" The voice called. She turned, but saw nothing. "Arleth…" The voice called again, this time on a graver tone. It was a hallucination she had had for some years. A ghostly, deep voice would summon her to this chamber, but she herself was unable to respond. The words stuck in her throat like rocks. And then she would feel an agonizing pain in her body and wake up powerless.

And so she did. The dawn had not yet fully conquered the darkness when she leaped up, breathing fast and body aching. She saw a dragon collapsing over the hills, no doubt dispatched by the Dragonborn. She understood it was time to leave, so she took her horse and galloped towards the fallen beast's final resting place.

_'How long does it take to find the Dragonborn?'_ Arleth wondered. She had been searching high and low, but she had so far failed. She began to ask herself whether her skills were leaving her. If so, then she would become useless, both in the Brotherhood's eyes, and her own. And that thought frightened her. But what frightened her more was the fear that slithered inside of her often than before.

She had now settled down for the night, her body screaming for rest. She had not slept in over three days. The mere thought of losing Eirik's trace quickened her step. But she had to replenish her energy from time to time, and a good slumber combined with rabbit meat made the perfect solution. She surveyed her surroundings carefully. Then she placed her head on the chilly ground. She closed her eyes and listened. The forest near her was dancing to the cold wind, and each leaf in its own pace. Far away, she could hear a lone wolf howling its tune to the moon, and the distant stream whispering to the stars. She took off her boots and dug her feet in the dirt. She smiled, and closed her eyes again. Her heart was, at least for a moment, at peace. Lying on a side, she let her mind chase away all manner of worries and take her to places she could only dream of.

But this night, she did not dream of impossible things. Instead, her visions returned. She found herself in a misty, golden room. She looked up and realized it was lacking a ceiling. One could see clouds and rays of light shinning down.

"Arleth…" The voice called. She turned, but saw nothing. "Arleth…" The voice called again, this time on a graver tone. It was a hallucination she had had for some years. A ghostly, deep voice would summon her to this chamber, but she herself was unable to respond. The words stuck in her throat like rocks. And then she would feel an agonizing pain in her body and wake up powerless.

And so she did. The dawn had not yet fully conquered the darkness when she leaped up, breathing fast and body aching. She saw a dragon collapsing over the hills, no doubt dispatched by the Dragonborn. She understood it was time to leave, so she took her horse and galloped towards the fallen beast's final resting place.


End file.
